Dream a little fantasy of me
by VoodooLilly
Summary: A little peek at what Cristina Yang and a certain hot Army doctor thought about after that hot kiss in the procedure room during episode 5.02.
1. Cristina

_Title: Dream a little fantasy of me_

_Author: VoodooLilly_

_Pairing: Cristina/Owen_

_Rating: R-ish_

_Disclaimer: I only wished I owned Grey's Anatomy, Kevin Mckidd and army of evil minions to do my bidding. Since I own none of these things, don't sue._

_A/N: This is my first fanfic, a little two part one-shot based on that uber hot kiss between Yang and Hunt in the procedure room during the season premier. Please be gentle in your reviews, my tender ego responds best to helpful criticism and cookies._

* * *

_So?_

It was taunting her, _he_ was taunting her, daring her really. Bastard. An amazingly talented, marginally sexy, fabulous kisser, but still a bastard.

Meredith had left hours ago and she had twenty four hours of uninterrupted bed rest ahead of her before she had to report back to the hospital. It was hell, nothing to do but rest, and remember one unspeakably hot kiss. Yang flopped back in her bed and winced as his tiny, neat stitches pulled on her abdomen. Idly she pulled up the hem of her tank top and admired them for probably the hundredth time.

Watching his sure hands suture her injury had been hot. Hell, just watching him move had made her feel all warm and tingly even on top of the morphine. Dr. Owen Hunt, Army Guy and trauma surgeon extraordinaire. He was going to be a problem she just knew it.

Her fingertips lightly traced the stitches as she thought about that torrid kiss he'd laid on her in the procedure room. Unconsciously she bit her lip, closed her eyes and remembered the feel of his lips on hers. Damn, but she secretly liked it when a man just took charge like that, even as she'd protested that she didn't know him. It had been months since she'd felt anything remotely resembling desire. Not since- no, that wasn't going to be her anymore, boo-hooing about Preston. Then today, out of the blue, Army Guy swoops into the picture having traeched a guy with a ballpoint pen, then stapling that gash in his admittedly fine ass… McBadass…yeah, he had totally woken up her desire.

_So?_

He was still a bastard.

But the man could kiss.

Pre-Burke she would have closed the blinds herself, ridden him until they both passed out. With her wound, she just may have. But Burke was still a fresh scar on her psyche and she was drowning in limbo. Unlike Meredith, Cristina didn't intend to die, figuratively speaking. No, getting involved with McBadass was trouble, even if he did make her feel alive again.

"Oh just shut up! You sound like Mer now, waffling between decisions!" She snapped out loud, consciously pulling her hand away from Hunt's tiny, sexy stitches. "See, that crap right there has to stop. He is not sexy, and his stitches aren't either! Seriously, I need a Psych consult, talking to myself and fondling a hot doctor's stitches." She forced her hands to lie limply at her side, away from the cut.

He was sexy though, and talented. The way he watched her watching him, how he just stepped into a strange hospital and took over like he owned the place. How he could admit failure and move on from it.

_So?_

Her left hand slipped back to the scar, tracing it lightly. Cristina closed her eyes, a bemused little smile on her lips as her other hand slid between her thighs. She wouldn't get involved with him, or go find out where he was staying tonight. No, but she could _think_ about it.


	2. Owen

Disclaimer: Still own nothing, those greedy bastards don't like to share. Sigh

A/N: This wraps it up. I may write more, I may not, really I just want to see what happens next!

* * *

_I don't even know you…_

Those words where haunting him, _she_ was haunting him. The taste of her seemed to still linger on his lips even though he'd had two glasses of scotch and had brushed his teeth before lying down on the hard hotel bed. Oranges and mocha, that's what he remembered from that brief kiss. Major Owen Hunt grunted as he flopped onto his back on the uncomfortable bed and remembered every word he'd exchanged with Doctor Cristina Yang. He had twenty four hours before he needed to report to Fort Lewis and not nearly enough to keep him busy till then.

She had kissed him back, passionately, like she hadn't been kissed in a while. Hell, he hadn't been kissed in nearly ten months. On an eighteen month deployment with only shrouded women, sketchy whores and other enlisted women, his pickings had been slim. Not that it was usually a problem, his self control was excellent, and the stress of his job usually left him too exhausted to mind. But Cristina… the way she watched him staple his gash, her hot little hands on his hip as she finished the few he couldn't reach. Hell, her eyes as he sutured her abdomen, all smoky and warm, plainly telling him she was thinking dirty little nothings, she had him hard the whole time, feeling keenly the fact he hadn't had a woman, let alone a climax in months. The Sandpit was short on privacy as well as women. Then he'd kissed her, debated on it a moment before resolutely closing the blinds and laying one on her.

_I don't even know you…_

But she'd kissed him back before pulling away.

He was going back to the Sandpit, voluntarily, but still going back.

Damn it! He scrubbed his hands over his stubble impatiently, scowling at the ceiling. Chief Webber had offered him a job. His CO thought he had spent enough time in the trenches and needed a break. It was tempting, so very tempting…

"What are you thinking? Give up your duty to your country, the high you love best for a pretty piece of ass that kisses like a goddess? Not fucking likely! Get your head in the game and out of your pants." He muttered aloud, knowing he was crazy to even contemplate leaving the career he reveled in for a woman he didn't know.

How easily he _could_ get to know her. She was a mystery he could happily spend time unraveling, finding out how she ticked and what had put the sadness he could see in her eyes. Such an easy thing to do, and once Owen Hunt made a decision he stuck by it. Just like he tenaciously pursued what he wanted.

_I don't even know you…_

A small smirk curled his lips as he thought once more about that kiss, and gave into the fantasy brewing in his thoughts about a certain sloe eyed doctor. A strong hand slid down his muscled belly and wrapped around the base of his erection. He wouldn't leave the Army for the pretty doctor, but he could _think _about it.


End file.
